Second City Saints
by Vlita316
Summary: Punk/OC fiction. CM Punk and his childhood best friend's path have finall crossed in the WWE. Will they remain friends, become something more, or turn into enemies? will continue if given enough critiques/feedback. Thanks for all your support!
1. Chapter 1

Though Denver, Colorado felt cool and calm in the early winter, the Madness arena was hot for WWE's Monday Night Raw tonight. The crowd's roar could be heard echoing off the icy mountains as the company's crowned champion, CM Punk stood center stage. The WWE championship, his most prized possession, laid comfortably on his left shoulder. Though he had won the title once or twice before, this reign felt different. It was the first time he truly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders; that everything he said and did could mean the WWE's triumph or downfall, and he couldn't be happier. Pressure made him thrive; he certainly wouldn't be where he was today without his nay-sayers. There was something truly comforting about doing something someone said you couldn't. It was a simple pleasure Punk was enjoying too frequently these days.

He tore his attention away from the crowd and toward his adversary in the ring, Daniel Bryan. Much like Punk, Daniel had his share of adversity. And also like Punk, he had found success in the WWE, capturing the world heavyweight championship, a sister title to t WWE championship. Daniel Bryan had also captured the heart of a young diva named AJ, who stood faithfully next to Daniel Bryan with her hand on his shoulder, smiling. However, unlike CM Punk, Daniel's new found success had gone to his head and he quiet frequently made sure everyone knew about the prize he had in his arms, AJ notwithstanding. Her petite frame and perfectly styled hair made her the current definition of a WWE diva.

"You sit there, Daniel, hiding behind your girlfriend and your title. All that gold has gone to your head. You used to care about what happened there," Punk pointed his finger at the ring that Daniel Bryan and AJ were occupying, "in that very ring. Nothing else mattered except making someone tap out." Daniel smirked and adjusted his belt on his shoulder.

"I've moved on, Punk. Indy guys like us? We're a dying breed. Excuse me if I smartened up before you did. I'm vegan, which basically means I'm better than you. You're title win was a fluke. I'm gonna be champion for a long, long time. And if you don't like it-"

"'Scuse me, Punker. Aren't you gonna introduce me to you little friends?" A woman's voice from behind CM Punk interrupted Daniel Bryan. Ms. Sterious, or as the crowd and the commentators so affectionately called her, Missy, was the WWE's newest addition to the roster. However, she was not a new addition in the life of CM Punk. The casual wrestling fan would not suspect that they knew each other fairly well, both in and out of the ring. Missy's quick wit and sharp tongue wandered away from the mentality the company had towards WWE Divas; that they should be seen and not heard. And while Punk was all for a woman's right to speech, he often wished for a custom muzzle, or at least industrial grade duct tape for his long time friend, who too often shot first and asked questions later.

"oh, right. Where are my manners?" CM Punk played along with Missy's naivety, because you never know where she would take you, but you knew it was always somewhere interesting, "you remember D-Bry from the indies. That's his little play-thing AJ next to him." The crowd applauded Punk's observation of AJ as Missy nodded and spoke with a thick layer of sarcasm in her voice.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet your mortal enemies. Um, could I speak to you in private over here?" Missy playfully pulled Punk over to the side and spoke to him through the microphone, loud enough so everyone could hear, but as if he were the only one that could hear the conversation, "look, Punk, I don't know what you're doing wasting your time with a guy who's afraid of poultry and his butter-face girlfriend," The crowd howled with laughter as Missy continued, "lets just go over there, make nice, and then bounce. I'm craving a burger just looking at that odd looking stick Daniel Bryan seems to be infatuated with."

Punk nodded, chocking back laughter as to try not to break the illusion for the crowd. They playfully made their way down to the ring, where Daniel Bryan and AJ were fuming. Missy made her way over to AJ and held her hand up toward her. She slapped a fake smile on her face and spoke with a voice two levels higher than her normal pitch,

"hey girlfriend… high five." AJ hurled herself toward Missy, who ducked out of the way with ease. Daniel Bryan made a similar move toward Punk, who caught him by the arm and dragged him toward the mat into a submission hold. Being the mat technician he was, Daniel Bryan easily slipped away from CM Punk's grasp and left the ring, pulling AJ with him. Missy and Punk stood tall in the middle of the ring, listening to the roar of the crowd's approval. Missy began mocking the couple as they backed away from the ring, yelling nonsense over CM Punk's music blaring throughout the arena. Punk leaned over towards Missy and whispered in her ear so that only she could hear what he was saying.

"Welcome home. What took you so long?"

Missy smiled and shrugged.

"I got here as fast as I could."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

"Pass the ketchup, will ya, kiddo?" Food dell from Punk's mouth as he spoke and Missy, whose real name was Melanie-Jean, laughed.

"You're a mess. You really wanna add ketchup to that garbage dump you call a mouth?" Punk laughed as more food fell from his lips. A very muscular blonde woman sitting next to Punk grabbed a napkin and gingerly wiped his face with it. The restaurant they were at felt like it had grown silent to watch Beth Phoenix wipe her boyfriend's face.

Though Beth was very intimidating and athletic in the ring, she often showed a much softer side when it came to her boyfriend. They had been dating for 6 months, making them an established couple in the eyes of the wrestling business. Wrestling couples never lasted long, their romances often flourished over a very simple, yet weak foundation: We're on the road over 300 days a year together, we spend more time with each other than we do with our own families, let's screw around. Most relationships were over before they started; leaving both parties unable to coexist in the ring and someone gets drafted to the opposite show to keep the peace. Beth and Punk, at least for the time being, seem to be the exception.

"You gonna cut his food for him too, sweetheart?" Melanie-Jean's voice cut through their romantic moment like a hot wire and Beth glared at her. Punk laughed a little, trying to break the tension between the two women. Thankfully, Kofi Kingston, who took his place next to Melanie-Jean, had caught just enough of the spat to speak up.

"Ladies, ladies," he spoke with a fake Jamaican accent that always cracked everyone up back stage, "It's alright, I'm back. No need to fight over me." He gently grabbed Melanie-Jean's hand and kissed it.

Please tell me hygiene is important to you and you washed your hands." Melanie-Jean began pulling her hand back. Kofi shrugged.

"Love is never having to wash your hands after taking a giant dump, my sweet."

"Aw, gross! Kofi…" Melanie-Jean dipped her hand in her ice water and the table laughed. Punk made eye contact with Kofi and nodded. Kofi nodded back and picked up a dessert menu. Beth shifter in her seat and placed her hand on Punk's lap.

"I called a few people earlier tonight. I wanted to tell everyone I slept with that I was off the market." Beth took a sip of her water and smiled. Melanie-Jean leaned over toward Kofi and whispered in his ear,

"I'm sure her 8th grade summer camp counselor and the pulse setting on her shower head are very disappointed." Kofi snickered loudly and though Beth had not heard what was said, she knew it was nothing flattering towards her. Ever since Missy arrived in the WWE a few weeks ago, she had nothing but put her down.

"That's just who she is, Beth" Punk had explained once, "she's just messin around, pushing your buttons."

"But she seems to do that with me more than anyone else. Why the hell is she singling me out?" Punk shrugged.

"It's always been like that, anytime we are in a relationship, we give our significant others a hard time. I always did it to her boyfriends and she always does it to my girlfriends. We're just protective of each other. It's her way of testing you."

Beth did not want to be tested. It was quite enough that everyone was waiting for the relationship to end the way all wrestling couples end. Beth could feel their stares and gossip every time they would walk through the backstage area, hand in hand. It was emotionally and psychologically exhausting. She didn't need another member of the jury to decide her romantic fate with Punk. He was the man she was going to marry.

"Just be nice to her. Let her comments roll off you and take it in stride. Eventually, she'll respect you for it. She'll love you almost as much as I do."

Beth sighed. There seemed to be no end in sight to Melanie-Jean's relentless torture. Bus she was going to withstand it, for Punk. Beth squeezed Punk's leg under the table and smiled, seductively. Punk smiled back and mouthed later, to which Beth nodded and took her hand off of his lap.

Melanie-Jean caught the gesture out of the corner of her eye.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

_"Melanie-Jean! Where are you?" Punk's voice was young, very young. He was maybe 6 years old, or 7? Well, way before puberty that was for certain. He removed his overly-worn Chicago Cubs baseball cap and wiped his forehead. He pressed his hands on his own cheek, which felt like a warm plate against his hand. His fingers looked like tiny French fries as he tried to identify whether his fingers were covered in dirt or chocolate. His regard for sanitization hadn't seemed to develop yet, and he instinctively put his fingers in his mouth._

_Nope. Definitely not chocolate._

_ "Phil! Get your hands OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!" a woman's shrill voice tore through his psyche and he immediately felt guilt. Only one woman had that kind of effect on him._

_ "Sorry mom, I forgot." Even as his mother came barreling toward his like a freight train with a hand full of tissues inevitably soaked with her saliva, all Phil could think about was where his friend was. His mother was full-figured with curly brown hair and eyes that could either comfort a crying son or burn a hole through his head. She rubbed his lips so hard; he thought she was going to rub them off. _

_ "You forgot? You forgot nothing, I've told you so many times; don't put dirty things in your mouth!" His mother took his hands in her own and wiped the mud feverishly from between his fingers._

_ "Where's Melanie, mom? I can't find her." Phil felt a lump in his throat, something he had not felt in a long time. His mother snorted and shook her head,_

_ "It's hide and seek, honey. You have to go look for her," she drew her son closer to her and whispered to him, softly, "I think I saw a little girl giggling in the bushes over there." Phil smiled and pulled his hands back, cleaner than they were originally. Running as fast as his tiny legs could carry him, he peered through a thick bush of leaves and roses. Slowly, he stuck his hand into the bush, feeling for any signs of-_

_ "BOO!" Punk jumped and whirled around just in time to see a little girl in a yellow sundress running toward the front porch. Her braids, held together by a red ribbon Punk came to know so well, were bouncing up and down, as if they were dancing around her head. He ran after her, determined to catch up to her. But she was fast, even in a dress. She reached the porch moments before Punk and turned around._

_ "BASE! I beat you, Phil!" She began dancing and pointing her fingers in the air, a very fast rendition of the hokey-pokey. Two women, one of which Punk immediately recognized as his mother, clapped feverishly for her from their rocking chairs as she continued to mock him._

_ "I told you girls can run faster than boys!" She squeaked. Punk put his hands in his pocket and began subtly kicking the dirt up from the ground._

_ "Yay, Melanie!" the other woman exclaimed. She stood up from her chair and swept her up in a grand embrace, twirling her around, "Proud of you, baby girl." _

_ "You cheated," Punk interrupted._

_ "YOU cheated, your mom helped. Besides I could see you from a hundred miles away with your Cubs hat on" Melanie exclaimed. "I won, so there."_

_ "Yeah, yeah, I didn't care anyway. I wasn't even trying, Mel."_

_ "Then why are you so red and sweaty?"_

_ "Shut up!"_

_ "PHILIP, LANGUAGE!" his mother raised her voice for the second time in less than five minutes, and Punk felt embarrassed, another unfamiliar feeling. Just then, the screen door to his childhood home opened and a man in his mid-thirties appeared from behind the door. His physical stature rivaled Punk's, even at his current age. Though tall and muscular, he looked sick and sloppy; and the crumpled beer can in his hand did not help his image. A hush fell over the front yard, until Melanie's young voice broke the silence._

_ "Daddy, I beat Phil in hide n' seek! I ran SO fast. Do you wanna see?" The man sighed and muffled a burp. He slowly sat down and threw the empty beer can over the porch railing into the trash can. Reaching under his chair, he pulled a fresh can and popped it open with one hand. He began staring off into the distance, just above Punk's head. Punk turned around, trying to see what he saw, but all he saw was an elusive, but calming sunset over the Chicago skyline. Punk turned back to Melanie's mother, who was staring at her daughter, tears pooling just below her eyes, but not falling. _

_ "Your daughter asked you a question, Shane." Her voice shook as she spoke, not from fear, but disappointment. He threw back another swig of beer and licked his lips. Wiping alcohol from his greying chin, he spoke slowly without tearing his gaze from the skyline,_

_ "Tell her to enjoy it now. The same boys she beats in sports are gonna beat her by the time she's out of her training bra." The city seemed to stand still for a moment. Punk turned his sights on Melanie, who was standing sheepishly on the porch steps, rubbing her elbow._

_ "Phil, Melanie, inside. Pronto." Punk began to protest, but his mother was already shoving them inside the house, slamming the front door behind them. The two children stood in silence as the muffled sounds of protest from their mothers toward Shane erupted. _

_ "I don't know why he says stuff like that," Melanie's voice was meeker than it was before as she fought back a quivering voice, much like her mother. The voices outside grew louder and angrier and Punk grabbed Melanie's hand, leading her past the kitchen and through the foyer to the backyard where the sun had almost completely disappeared. Partially lit streetlights suddenly came on, casting a shallow glow over everything around them. Tattered lawn chairs and abandoned toys seemed to gleam alongside Melanie's auburn hair and cheeks; stained with repressed tears. Fireflies appeared from the shadows, giving light as if they were standing in their own personal Wonderland. _

_ "Don't cry, Melanie-Jean. He's just drunk. My mom says he drinks too much. And when people drink too much they say things they don't mean." Punk somehow felt like he was six feet tall at the moment. He took Melanie's shoulder and squeezed tightly. Melanie nodded, but she still seemed sad. Phil caught a wandering firefly nearby in the corner of his eye. He slowly approached the firefly; hands cupped and arms open ever so slightly, and captured the firefly in his palms. Careful not to kill the creature, he brought his treasure to Melanie, his hands closed tightly._

_ "Here, take this," Punk parted his cupped hands, bringing them to Melanie's small and slightly flushed face. She laughed a little,_

_ "There's two of them, Phil." Punk looked down at his hands and sure enough, two fireflies, with their bodies glowing, sat calmly in his palms, "They're so pretty, I bet they're a boy and girl firefly."_

_ "You're pretty," The words escaped Punk's lips and before he could retrieve them, Melanie wiped her tears and smiled, "Um, you should take one. I don't wanna hold them both." Melanie gingerly took one firefly in her hand, its body glowing repeatedly in the process. _

_ "I don't want to keep them apart. We should let them go, together. So they can fly away together," She kneeled down and Punk followed suit. They held their hands up, palms facing the sky. At first, the fireflies didn't move. They sat, shining and fluttering. "Go on, fly away!" Melanie lifted her hand even higher and this time, both fireflies obeyed and left a smiling Melanie and Punk behind. _

_ "What if they get separated?" Punk asked Melanie as she continued to watch the fireflies fly away, "what if some kid captures one, but not the other? Or if one of them gets squished, then the other one has to go on without her?" Melanie shrugged,_

_ "I think, when it's dark, they have lights so that they can find each other again if they get lost…I think."_

_ "That makes sense." _

_ "Don't worry, as long as your lights are on, I'll always find you," Melanie said, giggling. And though the adults continued to wage war from hell in the front yard, Melanie and Philip had found their own personal heaven among broken lawn chairs and fireflies. Melanie looked at Punk and rested her head upon his shoulder._

"Are you awake, baby?" she said, her voice much more grown up than her body.

"What?" Punk felt himself being torn from his wonderland, his childhood friend's face fading to black. In her place, was a dark window with a lit lamp's reflection in it. Upon his shoulder, instead, was Beth. She rolled off his shoulder and sat up,

"You were dreaming. Something about fireflies." Still groggy and a bit agitated his girlfriend tore him away from his dream, Punk rubbed his eyes and massaged his forehead,

"Yeah, sorry about that. I guess with no sleep, my brain's subconscious has been going into overdrive."

"Uhuh, what's that about sleep being for the weak?" Beth poked him in the chest, which felt like a stab in his sleepy state.

"I'll get back to work," he said with a grin. Punk pulled her down for an apologetic kiss and turned off the lamp.

"Sounded like one hell of a dream. You always said your body art was inspired by your dreams. Fireflies… maybe that will be your next tattoo?" Beth mumbled from under the sheets. Punk snickered.

"Yeah, well I think I already have that one covered." He looked down at his chest, on the left side. Hidden among the skull and dragon design, sat a small but prominent firefly with a small red ribbon wrapped around it.


End file.
